


When Time Turns Back

by Doctor_Neverdie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Azor Ahai Prophecy | The Prince That Was Promised, Bloodshed, Dragons, F/M, How Do I Tag, Old Gods, R Plus L Equals J, Time Travel Fix-It, War, Wargs (ASoIaF), Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:14:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Neverdie/pseuds/Doctor_Neverdie
Summary: Ned Stark loses his head — then wakes up in his bed, only to find chaos running amok in his home when it appears that (mostly) everyone remembers their past lives... And what's this about the Others invading?!Basically inspired by the Raven's Plan (great fic) when Westeros finds itself catapulted into the past. Will be mix of books and show but will also greatly  diverge from both canons. Much more serous than it appears to be. I suck at summaries (and I missed some tags but too lazy to add them).
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Jaime Lannister/Sansa Stark, Jon Snow/Ygritte, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Trystane Martell/Arya Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

"Damnation!" His father cursed, yanking him from the edge of the boat.

"If you can't hold it right, stay back!" the man snapped, grabbing the net from his hands.

Erik wanted to cry. It was the first time his father had taken him night fishing, and he was failing. _You're only ten,_ mother would say but mother was dying and father said she'd spoiled him too much. He watched as his father slowly worked without his aid, lines drawn on his face more prominently than ever before. 

They weren't very far from the coast (but it was the farthest he'd been on open water) and on rare clear days you could even see Skagos, his brother had told him. But it was cold tonight, and not even the calm-looking visage of the sea could calm him down. He'd always been afraid of water, but he quickly banished that thought from his mind. He knew that they needed to catch as much fish tonight — they _had_ to. For Mother.

_A nice dress for her,_ he'd overheard father saying to his brother. _I've never bought her a nice dress_.

He felt like crying again, and couldn't stop the sniffles. His father noticed and Erik stiffened. He was almost afraid that he was going to be yelled at again, but his father said not a word and looked behind him.

"Look," he said softly ( _father was never soft, not since mother started ailing_ ) and Erik obeyed, turning to take a glimpse of what caught his father's sight.

Far in the distance, shimmering lights of green and blue painted the night sky.

"It's beautiful."

"Aye. The Mother of Lights. Rare to see them during this time of the year, so count yourself lucky. My nan said sometimes you could hear them sing."

"The lights? Singing?"

His father dropped the net in the water. "Aye. They're the spirits of all that once was and ever will be, and sometimes they visit the mortal realm in form of lights. The songs they sing are spells from very old times, when the Children still walked the earth."

Erik looked at the sky thoughtfully. "Would mother... would mother visit us too when she goes?"

They had never spoken about it, his parents had never said anything about her illness even when she got worse, even his brother had been mum but he knew. He was ten, not stupid.

There was a stifling silence then. Erik waited.

"She will, lad. She will."

He looked at the sky again. "They're getting brighter."

"That's impossible," his father murmured, standing up unsteadily.

The lights spread across the sky faster, like a thick blanket of ethereal brightness that was soon above them. And then he heard them. There were so many voices, so many languages, so many words he didn't understand until he recognized his own voice among them.

_And he remembered._

"Fuck."


	2. And In Death, We Live On

**Ned I**

' _Daddy! No!_ '

Ned woke with a start, cold sweat running down his back. Eyes quickly searching around the dark solar, he breathed out in relief when he realized he was all alone and sank back into his chair. Outside, an owl hooted. The dream was the most disturbing he'd ever had. Vivid, too — he remembered everything, from Jon's disappearing silhouette as he rode north to take the black ( _gods, forgive him_ ) and to the touch of Ice on his neck as Ilyn Payne took his head.

The door flew open, revealing a wild-looking Jory Cassel in its wake, with none of his eyes missing or his entrails pouring out. _It's just a dream._

"My lord," his Captain of the House Guard said, voice strained and — as much as New didn't want to believe it — tears in his eyes. 

"What's gotten into you? It's the middle of the night, ser."

"You're alive. I thought.."

He blinked. "Of course I'm alive."

"I had a dream—"

Ned's breath hitched in his throat,

"—the Kingslayer's sword in my eye and our party surrounded by redcloaks. It was so real—"

"It's just a dream," he said more harshly than he intended, "and you have better things to do."

There was fear now in Jory's face. "My lord, _everyone_ dreamed your death by King Joffrey's order."

He unconsciously shivered and involuntarily touched his neck, Ice's cool touch still vivid — and his blood ran cold. There was a scar there. Nigh unnoticeable, but existing all the same and for that he felt terror creep up his spine, like a thousand spider legs upon his back.

"Who is everyone?" he whispered, too afraid of his own voice carrying and the answer Jory might give him.

"I think you should come outside, my lord," the knight said.

"It worked," a voice murmured, right behind Jory. It was Bran, still in his sleepwear. There was something in the boy's face, something in his eyes that was ancient and weary-looking — as impossible as it sounded because his son was just nine _ and Ned drew back instinctively. 

"Go back to sleep, Brandon. It's past midnight."

"It's not a dream. It's real. Everything."

"Go back to sleep," he said to his son, scared at the expression on the boy's face, that all-knowing look that seemed to strip him bare, him and his secrets and the lies he'd lived these last sixteen years—

"You promised her, on her bed of blood and winter roses. You promised, father."

—and Ned felt his world shatter.

_It was just a dream._

_Was it?_


End file.
